


Sarang

by N_Moonbreeze



Category: Super Junior
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Dark, Depression, F/M, Inspired by K-Drama | Korean Drama, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Parenthood, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:02:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22975798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N_Moonbreeze/pseuds/N_Moonbreeze
Summary: Sarang.Such a small word, such a huge impact. Such a small girl, such a chain of events caused by her arrival three years ago. In which Kim Ryeowook isn't sure if it's worth fighting against fate and Cho Kyuhyun is missing rather large pieces of the puzzle.
Relationships: Cho Kyuhyun/Kim Ryeowook, Kim Ryeowook/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 6





	Sarang

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!!
> 
> Completely new and fresh material from me, who would have guessed. Will be x-posting on AFF, maybe. Will try to keep up weekly updates, please be supportive so I know I'm not screaming into the void here.
> 
> Inspired by When the Camellia blooms, the movie Parasite and some real life documentaries/interviews I've seen recently. 
> 
> F/M in the past. Not your typical Kyuwook story, please be patient.

_tik tik tik_

_A beige unassuming clock on the wall diligently moved its hands towards 11.10 am. The tea he had brewed a few minutes before they had arrived sat untouched in the four ceramic cups. The normally busy street above his head was quiet, the recently fallen snow muffling any and all footsteps going past his window._

_sniffle_

_The red ink on the papers shone harshly in the dimly-lit semi-basement. Inside small circles were his and her stamps. Two for divorce, two for custody. Her parents served as witnesses. Maybe he should have protested against that._

_rustle_

_The man in his late forties fished something out of his jacket. A clear bag with stacks of 50,000 won notes._

_“Since we are sitting in this dump with you, I’m assuming the key money payment went through. Here’s the rest, as agreed.”_

_The bag was placed on his set of papers. The first words after necessary greetings hadn’t done much for the stifling silence that hung around them._

_He looked up to watch the young woman seated between her parents. Quiet, watching her intertwined hands in her lap with disinterest._

_“Hyesun…”_

_The woman closed her eyes._

_“If there’s nothing more, then we should be off on our way. We don’t want to waste your time.”_

_He stayed silent, wishing that the daughter would speak up instead, one last time._

_Hadn’t it been just a little over a year when they embraced each other in bliss and awe?_

_The parents stood up, nodding at him before going to the front door._

_She stood up as well, walking past him with her head held high._

_babble_

_She froze as she was passing the crib. Almost… Her head almost turned to the sound of the tiny girl waking up from her nap._

_And then she kept walking._

_After hearing the door close, he stood up from his pillow on the floor and took the papers in his hand. They felt foreign to him, like watching a scene from a drama rather than handling the most important documents of his so-called life._

_Signed, Kim Ryeowook. The sole parent of Kim Sarang._

_*******_

**Prologue** My Seven-Eleven Cutie

The sun was hanging low when Cho Kyuhyun finally emerged from the library, yawning as he tucked his laptop in his messenger bag. A stack on papers was blocking the way for the laptop, and he idle-mindedly kept crushing the notes on history of jazz music trying to push the laptop further in. It would be test week before Lunar New Year holidays soon, and he had skipped lunch for the fourth time this week trying to cram everything into a manageable 8-hour day. As a result his stomach was constantly churning and demanding attention in the still and quiet of the library, earning him dirty looks from the front desk lady who just last week told him that snacks weren’t allowed in there.

There was one upside to tolerating low blood sugar and hypocritical library ladies though.

_ding_

“Hello sir! Welcome to Seven-Eleven~”

Kyuhyun couldn’t help but grin as he heard the melodic voice greet him. He knew perfectly well that the store clerk was nice and polite to all of his customers, but…

“Ah, hello again! Come to pick up some katsusando and an americano again?”

Kim Ryeowook was wearing his too big uniform with a cute little smile again. He was wiping his hands in a towel, having just finished mopping the floor behind the counter. Kyuhyun kept noticing these new, tiny details about him every time he visited. Or, well, it’s not like he _hadn’t_ noticed the other’s delicate hands or the dimpled smile or thick lashes before… He just really enjoyed appreciating those things anew every time he came in.

“Yep! And throw in a KitKat as well, I’m starving.”

Ryeowook nodded and went to ring up his items as Kyuhyun meandered to the coffee machine, stealing glances at the other man while waiting for his pick-me-up to drip. He had been visiting this Seven-Eleven for half a year now, and the tiny store clerk never seemed to change. Come raging storm or sweltering heat, he always wore this serene, unaffected impression. Nothing seemed to anger or faze him, not the rambunctious school kids, uptight businessmen or drunken college guys and girls alike trying to hit on him, emboldened by the thousand won soju.

And maybe therein laid Kyuhyun’s problem.

“It’s 7,000 and 80 please!”

As his feelings for the Seven-Eleven cutie had only grown stronger, from a dumb-struck lighting crush to a full-on I’m-doodling-your-name-in-the-margins-of-my-notebooks crush, the cutie himself remained…

“Here you go. Hey, remember when I asked you about the—”

“I’m sorry, I’m at work now. Maybe we can talk about this another time?”

Aloof and untouchable.

Kyuhyun gave him a tight smile, pretending to not be perturbed by the pre-emptive turn down. To be completely honest, he was running out of ideas on how to try and wriggle his way into Ryeowook’s good graces. It didn’t help that he had no idea what the other one was thinking: was he even attracted to him, even on a molecular level? Was he being too pushy? Was he not pushy enough?

“Sir? Here you go?”

Ryeowook was holding his bag up in one hand and his change in the other. Kyuhyun thanked him quietly and turned to leave, trying to occupy his mind with the awaiting essay at home instead of hopeless convenience store romances.

“Well, see you again tomorrow.”

“I sure hope so!”

Kyuhyun froze for a second, going over a million possibilities in under a second, contemplating about turning over—

He gripped his shopping bag tighter and marched out the door, muttering to himself as he advanced into the sunset colored neighborhood.

* * *

_ I need to talk to you _

Ryeowook felt the phone vibrate in his jeans pocket as he watched Kyuhyun retreat from the shop. He let out a small sigh, one of regret and relief. He picked up a damp rag from the sink behind him and proceeded to wipe down the counter, swirling the blue cloth aimlessly around.

The poor boy had been visiting him at the store like a kicked puppy looking for sympathy for months now. At first, Ryeowook hadn’t even noticed anything strange in his behavior: a lot of the college students around here seemed to be jovial and relaxed in their interactions, so Ryeowook thought nothing of the easy smiles and keen attention he got from Kyuhyun.

But after some time, it was clear that the man moved with a purpose. He wanted to know so much of Ryeowook, gave him compliments while completely sober, stole glances at him while selecting a cappuccino instead of an americano from the machine for the third time that week.

_The test results came back_

He had to be honest, it was flattering. _Very_ flattering. And oh so very cute.

And for both their sakes, it should remain just cute. Ryeowook wasn’t strong enough to completely turn him away, so every once in a while he threw the puppy a bone. Like today, or last week when he bumped into Kyuhyun from the side completely on accident. A tiny bit of flirt wouldn’t kill anyone.

But anything more than that… No. The questions had to be avoided, compliments brushed off and the date invitations turned down.

He gripped the phone in his pocket hard.

Had to be.

_ When will you be off? _

7:35 pm. Hyungsik was already five minutes late, the brat.

_ Is this how you treat your mother? _

Sighing again, he glanced at the teenage boy browsing through some magazines and quickly pressed the speed-dial.

“Hey mom, sorry for not answering…”

The bus ride was long. He hated shifts ending at early evening like this because every bus and metro route was teeming with salarymen and -women, aching to get home to throw off their shoes and tune into the newest cable drama while eating a nice home-cooked meal. His old headphones were too small and too worn to block out any meaningful amount of noise and so he resigned to counting the different colored restaurant signs along the way to get himself into an uncaring stupor for the 45 minutes.

His stop finally came at the edge of a quiet neighborhood, filled with small townhouses instead of the highrises of downtown Seoul. His childhood home was unassuming but warm, much like his parents were.

Had been.

“Ah, finally! Sarang was starting to fuss, she expecting her daddy to feed dinner to her!”

Ryeowook’s mother was a small, greying woman despite being only in her fifties. The stress of her husband dying and her other leg losing strength rapidly had done a number on the glowing, proud matriarch she had once been.

“I know, I’m sorry mom. It’s been a long day” Ryeowook said quietly while kissing his mother on the cheek. He was led to the small kitchen where his daughter was already strapped to a kiddie chair, waving a tiny spoon around.

“Hey beautiful, how was your day with granny?” he asked, taking Sarang’s round face in his hands and giving small kisses to her cheeks and forehead while Sarang giggled happily _daddy daddy_. The little one was wearing a hand-knitted pink sweater and socks, paired with white fleece pants and a flower band holding her fine hair out of her face.

“We’ve been learning animal names from your old picture books” his mother told him as they took seats at the table, Ryeowook rationing food to all three.

“She's a bright kid. Takes after you.”

Ryeowook reached over to give Sarang a bit of vegetable stew and rice, taking his time to answer.

“I hope that’s all you wanted to tell me.”

His mom furrowed her brow, trying to make eye-contact with her son.

“You know I went to the doctor today. Aren’t you curious about the results?”

“If the results were any better than before, you would have called me immediately after getting out of there” Ryeowook said quietly, finally facing his mom. Sarang has thoughtfully chewing on a cucumber stick, eyeing both grandma and her daddy.

“My leg can’t hold my weight much longer. Sarang can’t stay here during your work shifts. It’s for both our safety.”

Ryeowook said nothing. It was pointless to continue the discussion: he knew his mother was right. His mother, and his father too until last year, had both done so much already. He really wasn’t supposed to ask or expect more.

“And I also have to start saving up for hospital bills… Who knows, maybe even hospice bills. Can’t pay those with a part-time at Seven-Eleven.”

He tried so hard to ignore the pang in his chest, the swelling of his throat.

“I’m trying my very hardest for the both of you. You know it, mom.”

His mom hummed and focused on her stew instead. The dinner proceeded in silence, with Sarang getting more food on herself than in her mouth and with Ryeowook swallowing more tears and spoonfuls of rice.

_The heat_

_The unbearable heat_

_Stifling stench and vibrating air_

_Let your mind bring forth your worst nightmare_

_Each and every night_

_Lest you forget what’s most important in this world_


End file.
